I met a young Muslin college student after 9/11.  I asked him how he felt when people treated him with prejudice and fear, after the attacks, because of his faith. 

I was absolutely humbled to hear him say that he felt ashamed, because if people’s view of Islam was that it was a religion of hatred and terrorism, it was only because he had not done enough to show the true loving nature of his faith.  Therefore, it was to his shame, not theirs, that they felt prejudice and fear and did not know any better.   

More on that in a minute…

 In the last 48 hours, I’ve experienced several things that have my head spinning and my heart pumping, and I’m trying to figure out what to do about it.

I went to a gathering of Christian folks who want to do good things in our community.  I was inspired by their passion, their struggles and questions, and their apparently sincere desire to make a positive change because of their love for God and the people of this world.

However, it quickly became apparent that my theology and my views about social justice were much different (read: more liberal) than theirs.  They were very nice to me and welcomed me and my thoughts.  They listened respectfully, but many times it felt like something I said caused the air to get sucked out of the room and people just didn’t know what to do with me.  

The result was that I didn’t feel truly like part of the group, like a part of the family.  I felt very much like an outsider, and I left feeling sad and lonely.  I wanted desperately to be amongst people who shared more of my views or, at the least, were more comfortable with my being different from them.

Every day, including in the last 48 hours, I meet people who tell me about their spiritual journey.  They talk about being disillusioned and frustrated at what they perceive to be hypocrisy amongst Christians and walking away from organized religion because of that.   They talk about being rejected because of who they are, how they live, or what they believe.

 They talk about leaving the Church because they have experienced a similar feeling of not belonging; not really being welcomed; not feeling like they were truly accepted just as they are; not feeling like people knew how to relate to them. 

I tell them what we’re trying to do with Creative Spirit; that we’re working to create a space where people feel at home spiritually, PERIOD.  That they find how much they are loved and accepted by God, and us, and are then inspired and encouraged to go out and transform their corner of this world with that love.  

That we want people to be a part of creating our services so that they experience and express their spirituality through the arts and music and with whatever other gifts they have.  That we are a Christian church that believes that any path that affirms life is good and that we welcome the rituals and writings and views of other faiths in our worship.

It’s a hard sell.  As soon as the word “Christian” comes out of my mouth, people cringe and I feel like I have to apologize and work hard to overcome their stereotype to convince them that I won’t judge them; that hellfire and brimstone and exclusivity and coercion to believe a certain way are not what I, or Creative Spirit, are about.

Getting back to my story at the beginning of this post, if all people know of Christianity is judgment and rejection, it is to our shame, including mine.  If they only know of one way of being Christian, it’s because we haven’t done enough to show them a different way is possible; that there is another way to understand God that doesn’t necessarily fit into any one nice and neat box; that Christianity is very compatible with the value and beauty they’ve found in other faiths or beliefs and not antithetical to them.   

It makes me sad and angry.

Don’t get me wrong…I’ve had the privilege to experience some of the best of Christianity in its people and churches.  I know that there are conservative, moderate, and liberal Christian churches that are doing wonderful and loving things and are doing their best to make everyone feel welcome.  But no one church can meet the needs of all people, and I believe we’ve not done enough to truly create space for everyone.

I was lamenting the lack of ethnic and racial diversity at my home church, and the pastor said to me, “But for people of color to want to come here, we’re going to have to be willing to let go of our very ‘white’ ways of worshiping and doing church or else they won’t feel at home and want to be here.  Are we willing to give up what feels culturally comfortable to us to create such a space?”

Far too long have we not been really willing to step out of our comfort zones and truly meet people where they are.  Far too long have we let exclusion appear to be the majority.  Far too long have we been content to sit in our churches and open the doors wide to everyone but wait there and expect them to know that we’re there and to take the initiative to come to us. 

Far too long have we been silent while some speak with loud voices of hate and judgement from websites like www.GodHatesFags.com.  If the voices of Fred Phelps and the folks from his church protesting at funerals are the only voices they hear speaking for Christianity, what do we expect them to believe?  Where are we?  Where is our voice?  Are we working nearly as hard as they are to let a different voice be heard? 

They spend an incredible amount of time and money traveling around to protest at funerals and churches and events all over the country.  Are we even half as much committed to spreading our message?

One of the most poignant moments at the gathering with Christians the other night where I felt like an outsider was when one guy recalled a conversation he had with a friend who said, “Dude, like, if you Christians decided to all get together around the world and just end hunger or poverty, you could just DO IT!”  At first, the idea seemed absurd, but after a few moments, it sank in that this guy was right.  WE COULD!  The next obvious question is, “Why haven’t we?”

We could sit around and point fingers all day and discuss why we think this is, but instead, I’m desperate for other heads and hearts to come together to spend our energy finding ways to just do it.  Many of you whom I know ARE working to make a difference in ways you feel God has called you to.  But Creative Spirit is what I’m passionate about and where I feel called and I need people who share this vision to join me.

Can’t we at least step out onto The Drag on Guadalupe St. in Austin and just sit and make friends with he homeless teens that hang out there? 

Can’t we go stand on the corners with day laborers and use our broken Spanish to try to communicate with them and get to know them and understand what their life is like and what we might be able to do to stand with them and require that our country treat them like people and not criminals? 

Can’t we go sit in tattoo parlors and ask questions about body art and piercings and get to know folks who don’t look like us so we won’t be so uncomfortable around them, which, without our meaning to, makes them feel like Pariah’s? 

I’ve been saddened and humbled when I’ve stopped someone with tattoos and said admiringly, “Hey brother, cool ink!  That’s beautiful.  Do you mind telling me about it?”.  Most often their response is first clearly one of shock that 1) someone who looks white bread like me appreciates what they consider art and 2) doesn’t judge them as someone who’s been to prison or does drugs just because they have tattoos.  Then they smile at me with relief and gratitude and thank me profusely for my compliment.  One guy even chased me out the door to thank me again.

How many people think I shun them because, since I don’t understand them and am therefore am a bit uncomfortable around them, I just ignore them; never truly see or connect with them?

I’ll be honest, I’m hesitant to send this out.  I’m not ordinarily this preachy (I hope!).  It’s scary to step out here and risk criticism or just making myself a clear target.  And I don’t usually speak out of passion that comes from such frustration and anger with myself or others. 

I’m scared of offending well-intentioned people because they feel like I’m condemning them when I beg you to believe that isn’t my intention.  I’ve used words like “we” and “our” intentionally because I indict myself first and foremost with these words and am not sitting on a high horse thinking that I’m so enlightened or spiritual or great.  I screw up all the time and those of you who know me at all, know this all too well.

My intention is to call all of us, including me, to re-think how we are living out our faith and “doing church”.  My desire is to find a different way and to change the tide so that Christianity and God are not seen as nearly so monolithic.

MOST OF ALL, MY DESIRE IS TO SAY, I want to find a way to do something different because something’s gotta change and I can’t do it on my own.  I need more creative minds than mine working on building Creative Spirit as a home for the spiritually homeless and as a transformational community that makes serious, tangible, and lasting change in the lives of people in Austin.  I need people to help ME to grow and live up to my own challenges above. 

So, what do you say?  I need your thoughts, your ideas, and your prayers.  I need help thinking outside of the box because I have my own comfort zones and blind spots and only the presence of others who share this vision can kick me in the rear to overcome them.  Write me.  Call me.  In the name of Jesus the hippie radical who shook everyone up, let’s do something radical.  

Peace, Carla